


A case-by-case basis

by PilDoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Museum AU, Parent Dean Winchester, Ph.D student Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-23 12:49:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilDoor/pseuds/PilDoor
Summary: “I can bring them with me. Then you can look in them the next time you come to the museum,” Castiel suggests.“Really?” she turns to Dean, “Dad, did you hear that?”Dean is kissing Ben’s thin wrist wildly all around and the boy is giggling, squirming in his lap, dried tears forgotten on his cheeks. He stops to look at Krissy, “What’s that, sweetheart?”Krissy tells him Castiel’s promise and Castiel finds himself nervous. Maybe he has overstepped some boundary, maybe it is not normal to lend books to strange children.But Dean smiles gratefully, “Well, that’s awfully nice, Cas.”Castiel smiles back, welcoming the nickname with a flutter in his stomach.





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel tries not to scowl at his boss. _Tries_ being the key word. Flu season is well underway, Castiel is aware, but that is not a good enough reason to put him on ticket duty. Therefore he only feels a little immature when he grumbles as his boss informs him that Castiel has to man the ticket booth tomorrow, at least until his lecture on “dirt and bones, or whatever it is”.

Tickets is not part of Castiel’s function, but he supposes he can use the pay and it is just for a few hours. The lecture is on clay types and bone structures and what they imply, so Castiel’s boss is not far off topic, but it still bothers Castiel because he spent many years studying it, and it is important to him. His boss is just a relocated fast food joint manager.

Castiel gets up too early for comfort the next day, foregoes breakfast for seven more minutes of sleep and drinks his coffee on the metro to the museum. He checks his phone during the ride, and there is an email from Anna and a call from his mother. Castiel ignores both. He doesn’t need to talk to them yet, Christmas is not for another month. Castiel is not a family man and he does not even feel particularly bad about it. He knows that most of his relatives are not big on family either.

He will call them when Christmas gets closer and feign extreme business as always when they ask about his silence. 

He hangs his coat and leaves his briefcase in the staff room rather than going all the way to his office, and he is not even the first person there. Meg and Hanna are drinking coffee and bitching about how many school trips are coming in today.  
Castiel leaves them to it and makes his way through the museum to the ticket booth and he must admit that coming in early, before the museum is open to the public, has its charm; the light is not on yet, only the spotlights on the exhibitions, and he can hear the drum of the rain outside because there are no tourists talking too loudly in foreign tongues or any school kids screaming and crying yet. 

Castiel revels in it as he walks through the large halls, mug of coffee in one hand and a sudoku book in the other. Ash always complains how boring ticket sales is, so Castiel had the foresight to purchase the book in the giftshop before leaving yesterday.

The day starts well enough. A few archeology students he taught last semester come in. They ask him questions while he prints their student discounted tickets but are otherwise painless. A few tourists trickle in, not too many due to the off season, and Castiel handles the broken to complete lack of a common language with flying colors if he says so himself. 

It is not until 11am, when the first school kids start thrumming through the doors, that he is in trouble. There seems to millions of different discounts for groups of various sizes and for different age groups and different schools, and none of them can be combined. It is up to Castiel to find the right one for each group, and the chaperones seem to know if he is not choosing the cheapest one. Castiel suddenly understands why they need a MIT graduate to man the ticket booth.

A particularly large and unruly class has just gotten their tickets and shed their jackets in the wardrobe before going off on their tour guided by Meg, when a man and a boy rush in. Castiel is handing a German family their tickets before a pair of small hands clasp onto the desk. Castiel leans over to look down at a young boy. His hair is dark with the rain from outside, but he is not wearing a coat. Castiel is just about to ask if he got lost from his group when the boy has a question for him.

“Where are the dinosaurs?” he stands on his tiptoes to look over the desk with large light eyes.

“Upstairs,” Castiel, who has never been good with children, says. He knows the boy should not go trotting off after dinosaurs by himself. Castiel supposes he would need a ticket first, but is he supposed to sell them to unsupervised children? Maybe he should find his manager.

“Dad, the dinosaurs are upstairs!” the kid yells over his shoulder, and a man with just as drenched hair comes walking from the wardrobe. There is water dripping down the collar of his shirt but that is none of Castiel’s business.

“Really?” the man asks and lifts the kid up on his hip. He looks at Castiel, “Hey, we’re with Westend Elementary. We were running a bit late, so we have to catch up.”

Castiel stares. There is one drop of rain water making its way from behind the man’s ear, down his tan clavicle.

“It’s Mr. Henriksen’s class?” the man says, clearly asking for directions.

Castiel still stares. The drop will soon disappear into the dark material of the guy’s t-shirt.

The man shifts uncomfortably, “I think he probably made a reservation with a guide. I don’t know if you can see which guide?” he looks at the computer in front of Castiel.  
Castiel jerks, “Yes! I can,” he types the name into the program and decidedly does not think about how awkward he is. “They’re with Meg.”

The man looks at Castiel. Shifts a bit and hoists the kid higher. “… Do you know where Meg went?” he asks when it becomes evident Castiel is not saying anymore unprompted.

Castiel wants to hit himself with a pamphlet, “Oh! Uh, yes, I will catch you up,” he gets up form the chair and leaves the little booth that is the ticket office, “Follow me.”

They walk through the Egyptian room and the kid, no longer on his dad’s hip, but clasping his hand tightly, stares moon-eyed at the gold-rimmed caskets.

“Did we miss the dinosaurs?” The man asks, glimpsing nervously at his son.

“No,” Castiel replies, “Just the Egyptians and the Moroccans.”

The man exchanges a look with his son, wiping pretend sweat off his brow, “Phew, huh, Ben?”

“Yeah! Phew!” The boy says.

Castiel hears the click of Meg’s heels and sees her as he turns the next corner, “That should be your group,” he says and points.

The boy, Ben, lets go of his dad and runs his classmates.

The man pats Castiel’s shoulder once, “Thanks, man,” and goes after him.

Castiel says “No problem,” to himself and goes back, ignoring the way the man’s jeans cling to his hips.

 

Ash is back to manning the ticket booth by the weekend, so Castiel gets to do his normal work. He is actually hired by the university, as he is researching his Ph.D., but he is affiliated with the museum in that the owner, Crowley, who he has never met, is sponsoring most of his research.  
Most of his time is spent doing research. He did field work in Peru last year and has an office at the museum to write the actual Ph.D. and study his material. His founds are to be exhibited at the museum when he is done, so they are kept in his office there. 

But he works for the museum as well. He teaches a class there for the university students, and he gives watered down lectures to the other guests, and sometimes he guides the tours, but he tries to avoid it. During high season he is also in charge of manning the children’s section on weekends until 2pm when they close.  
It is close enough to Thanksgiving that management has decided that high season has started so Castiel is in the children’s section today. There are not many kids, but it is still before noon.  
There are some tourists trying to comprehend the instructions on the interpersonal digital game but they just keep pushing the buttons. The screen with the dinosaurs keeps lighting up and making noises, and the kids laugh and exclaim in a language Castiel cannot distinguish.

“Hey dad, do you think we could get a cat? And it could be master of the house?” a girl asks as she is leaving the final exhibition room and entering the play room.

“No cats,” the dad says without a second to think. He enters the room with the same kid on his hip as earlier that week. 

The girl rolls her eyes but takes her brother’s hand when he is let down to go to the sandboxes to dig for bones.

The man follows, “What’s next? You want a sphinx in your room?”

“A pyramid,” the girl deadpans, already scraping through the sand with a small rake. 

The man rolls his eyes and goes towards the side of the room where Castiel is sitting on a bench. Castiel tries not to look at him, but he notices the man’s legs are slightly bowed and his jeans are frayed with wear at the bottom.

Castiel shifts awkwardly and tries to keep his gaze on the kids. The guy has not recognized him. Not until he has rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and leaned back, resting one calf on top of his knee. Then he turns and looks at Castiel.

“Oh hey!” his foot falls back to the ground as he leans forward, “It’s you.”

Castiel keeps his legs crossed, feet away from the man, “Yes. Hello.” He says, meeting his eye briefly. The man is even more attractive up close, the light playing off his eyes.

“You know, I never paid for our tickets on Tuesday. It’s been bothering me all week,” the man says.

“Oh,” Castiel says and shifts his legs so both feet are planted on the ground, “I believe you were included in the group discount so don’t worry about it.”

The guy leans back and scratches the back of his head, “If you say so.”

“I’m confident,” Castiel says which is a complete lie.

Then there is a yell from one of the kids and Castiel is instantly on his feet. Dean finds the conflict with his eyes before Castiel does though, and sighs. 

“Sorry. They’re mine,” he gets up and goes to the girl who is holding her brother’s wrist tightly, trying to make him let go of one of the small plastic bones that are hidden in the sand for the little sort-of-archeologists to take home.

Castiel looks on from his spot while the man kneels and talks to his kids. He ends up safe-keeping the plastic bone in his pocket and he kisses the boy’s knuckle where his sister scratched him superficially. The girl is given a stern look and she mutters an apology to her brother. Castiel’s forte is not with kids or familial relations at all really, but he supposes he can see the appeal for just this moment, where affection is normal and unstrained while they make up.

They leave the sandboxes to look at the info-graphics in bright and inaccurate colors instead. They are looking at the cross-section of a pyramid and the girl tips her head back to look at her dad, asking him a question. The man shrugs, then turns and points at Castiel.

Castiel flinches and looks away. He still has not sat back down.

He pretends to be busy observing the other kids while the girl marches across the room, determined, her little brother hot on her heels and their dad walking languidly behind them.

“Excuse me,” the girl says, her voice hoarse which Castiel hadn’t noticed until now.

He turns to her, “Hello.”

“Do you work here?” she asks, and her brother whispers that he does because he helped him and dad the other day.

Castiel confirms. Their dad has caught up to them and Castiel meets his eyes briefly to see him smiling.

“Do you know how big pyramids are?” she asks.

Castiel nods before he has the answer. He squints as he thinks, the information not readily available. It is not his area. “I believe around 450 feet at the moment,” he says, hoping he is not teaching her something false.

“That’s a lot,” the girl tells her dad behind her.

“It is,” the dad agrees.

“It’s probably, it’s probably more than _this_ tall!” the boy says stretching his arm above him and standing on his toes.

Castiel nods solemnly, thinking. He turns to the girl, “Are you interested in pyramids?”

The girl looks at her dad who gives her reassuring nod. She turns back to Castiel, “It’s because I heard this library burned down. It was a long time ago, like a _really_ long time. Like, even before my dad was born,” the girl says with put-on innocent eyes.

“Yeah thanks,” the man says, rolling his eyes.

Castiel dips his head to meet her eyes, “The library of Alexandria?”

The girl nods. The man steps forward and puts his hand on her shoulder, “Krissy did a project on it at school and has been obsessed with all things ancient Egypt ever since. Right, hon’?” he looks at his daughter.

“Did you know Cleopatra invented lipstick?” the girl, Krissy, asks Castiel.

“Uhm, no, I wasn’t aware of that,” Castiel admits and wonders about the accuracy of her claim but doesn’t say anything.

The girl shrugs one-shouldered, “Well, she did. C’mon Ben, lets see if we can find any more bones,” she says and her and her brother leave.

Their dad stays though. When Castiel sits back down, he follows suit. 

“So, you a big history buff?” he asks.

Castiel turns his knees toward his, clasping his hands between them, “More of an archeology buff, really.”

“Huh,” the man says, rubbing a hand over his lips before leaning back and nodding towards his kids, “Krissy is really into these things. I’m not sure where she gets it from but it ain’t me. I didn’t even know this museum had all this stuff until Ben’s class expedition the other day,” he says and gestures around him.

Castiel is not sure what to say. “It’s a good interest to have,” he settles on.

“Sure,” the guy agrees. “She’s turning into a little Brainiac, she’s way more into school than I was at her age.”

“Well,” Castiel tries, “I’m sure it helps having a dad who interested in exploring her interests with her.”

There is no reply for a while, but then the man nods and licks his lips. After a while he starts a new conversation, “So are you like an expert on this stuff?”

“Not so much Cleopatra. I’m a Ph.D.-student at the university,” he reveals.

“Huh,” the guy says, “Archeology I presume.”

Castiel nods.

“But not Cleopatra?” The guy says in lieu of asking what he does specialize in.

“I’m much closer to home, actually. I’m researching some new material that may reveal more about the practicalities of the Incas in Peru and the functionality of their religious practices.” Castiel says, already fearing he has lost the other man.

“Wow,” the guy nods for a while, thinking, then leans his forearms on his knees and look at Castiel, “Shit. That’s… uh, cool.”

Castiel nods. He does not know how to have this conversation because he will go too much into the specifics and completely lose the other guy on the way. Instead he asks, “What do you do?”

The guy lifts his brows in surprise at the question, “Uhm, I’m a mechanic.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, not sure what to say. He knows nothing about cars, or how anything is put together and functions, really. 

“Yeah,” the guy chuckles, “No fancy degree or anything.”

“Oh, yes. Those are a waste of time, really,” Castiel says, too honest with his opinion perhaps.

The man certainly looks surprised, “Coming from you?”

Castiel chuckles at the man’s surprise, “I’m just saying. I’m 31 and haven’t even really started my work yet. Of course, the research is my work and I’m passionate about that, but I’m teaching a very basic archeology class to freshmen at the university, which never gets filled, and supervising kids on the weekend.”

The same surprised look perseveres on the man’s face for a few seconds before it breaks into a smile and he laughs. The sound leaves a tingling sensation in the bottom of Castiel’s stomach.

“Well, if my kids ask you better tell them academia is the shit,” he grins, and Castiel matches it.

Twin gasps are heard at that, and Krissy has both hands on her hips, “You owe the swear jar a quarter!” she nags.

The boy giggles, “Daddy said a bad word, daddy said a bad word,” he sings.

The man rolls his eyes, “Just don’t tell you mother,” he says getting up.

That is the first moment it occurs to Castiel that of course, there has to be a mother. The guy is taken, probably married. He tries to tell himself that the sour feeling in his stomach is because he has not had lunch yet.

“You guys ready to go?” the man asks the kids. They confirm and run for the wardrobe to find the jackets.

The man turns to Castiel, “It was nice to meet you. I’m Dean by the way,” he says, stretching his right hand toward him.

Castiel shakes it, having gotten up as well, “Castiel. It was nice to meet you as well.”

“Knowing Krissy, I’ll probably see you again,” he grins over his shoulder as he walks off.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later the trio is back. 

Castiel is reading a scholarly article because it is a very slow Sunday on a rainy day in December. It is too early in the month for school breaks to have started but he knows the next few weekends will be busy and then the break starts, and every day will be busy until mid-January or so. He tries to read as much as he can beforehand just in case his imbecile boss will have him selling tickets again. He knows what Anna would say. _Don't put up with it!_ But Castiel has not spoken with her since August.

He sees Krissy first, when she plops down next to him. 

“Watcha reading?” she asks leaning into his field of vision trying to read the tiny font.

Castiel tips the page towards her, “Homework.” He says, if only to translate it to her terms.

Krissy scrunches up her nose, “You still have homework? Aren’t you old?”

“Krissy,” Dean says with a warning, having just caught up to her. Ben is digging through a nearby sandbox with his fingers, completely disregarding the archaeological tools available to make the experience _authentic_.

“What?” She asks innocently before turning back to Castiel’s article. She grabs one edge of the paper pulling it closer and squinting hard. “These words are too big.”

“I suppose,” Castiel agrees and rolls up the paper to put in his inner pocket to get back to later. “How have you been? Have you learned any new facts about Egypt?”

Dean notices Ben throwing sand and rushes to him, leaving Castiel with Krissy.

She puts her finger to her chin, thinking. “Oh!” she held her finger up, “It only took twenty years to build the pyramids, but they used a lot of slaves. So that’s not really so good.”

“They had a lot of slaves back then,” Castiel agrees, not sure what to say. 

Krissy is kicking her legs back and forth under the bench, “Do you think the library in Alexandria was built by slaves?”

Castiel nods, “I imagine is was.”

“Huh,” Krissy stares into the air. “And then it just burned.”

“It’s very tragic,” Castiel comments, hoping they will not get into slave politics throughout history. He is not sure what Dean would say to his daughter having that kind of conversation. He observes the girl, wonders how old she is. She’s not a spitting image of her father, like her brother is, but Castiel can see the relation in the way she moves, the shape of her face. 

“Do you know what sorts of texts were in the library?” he asks to deter from the subject.

She lights up, “Oh all sorts! Like science and religion and poems!”

Castiel hums in agreement, “Would you like to read some of these old texts?”

She frowns, “But they burned?”

“Yes, but a lot of texts had been copied and were available at other libraries,” Castiel tells her.

“That’s cool,” Krissy says.

“Yes, it’s very cool,” Castiel says, “I have some texts from that time. Mind you, not the original old texts, but poems translated to English, made into books we can read today.” Or maybe he does not, per se, but the museum does and they are in an unclaimed office next to Castiel's.

“You do?” Krissy asks, eyes round.

Before Castiel can reply Dean carries a crying Ben over. He sits down on the bench next to Krissy with Ben on his lap. He blows on Ben’s wrist which has a shallow scrape and wraps his hands around it while kissing his hair.

Castiel nods, “I do. I used to be very interested in the library and the burning of it myself, in my undergrad years. I have several books on the topic, but I’m afraid I don’t have them here.” That much is not a lie, only his books are textbooks and he doubts they would hold Krissy's interest for any amount of time.

“Oh,” the girl’s shoulders slump in disappointment.

“I can get them for next time. Then you can look in them the next time you come to the museum,” Castiel suggests. He figures he should check with someone before lending out the museum's property.

“Really?” she turns to Dean, “Dad, did you hear that?”

Dean is kissing Ben’s thin wrist wildly all around and the boy is giggling, squirming in his lap, dried tears forgotten on his cheeks. He stops to look at Krissy, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

Krissy tells him Castiel’s promise and Castiel finds himself nervous. Maybe he has overstepped some boundary, maybe it is not normal to lend books to strange children.

But Dean smiles gratefully, “Well, that’s awfully nice, Cas.” 

Castiel smiles back, welcoming the nickname with a flutter in his stomach. 

Krissy asks her dad when they can come back, which unfortunately, they do not have a chance to until after Christmas. Castiel reassures them that he will be here in the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and Krissy promises to come. Then Dean tells the kids to get their jackets because they have to go.

“I promised their mom I’d have them home,” Dean explains the abruptness. 

Castiel swallows and nods. 

Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “Thank you for engaging with Krissy.”

“It’s no problem. She’s very easy to engage with,” Castiel says.

Dean guffaws, “Yeah, for you maybe, self-proclaimed ‘archaeology buff’.” He’s chuckling, "You won't believe how much trouble she gets in because she's not _engaging_ with her class."

Castiel smiles shyly. Getting along with Dean’s children and getting Dean’s praise for it feels like a brilliant compliment.

“What about their mother?” he can’t help but ask, just because he needs to bring her up when Dean is making him blush.

Dean shrugs, “She has a yoga studio and she was a communications major. Not really big on history or archaeology. But she always knows where to find the best camps, so Krissy’s going to archaeology camp in the first week of the new year.”

Castiel tilts his head, thinking, “Is it the one in Arizona?” When Dean confirms he explains: “I have been a counsellor there during the summers for a few years. Many years ago, when I was a senior in high school and the first few summers of college.”

“Wow,” Dean says, “You really are a huge nerd.” But he’s smiling fondly and Castiel can’t take offence. “Maybe you could teach me something? Just so I could impress the kid for once. I haven’t been able to since she was five,” Dean rolls his eyes but is smiling.

Castiel smiles and he knows his eyes are shining with excitement, but he can’t stop it. Before he can accept though, Krissy and Ben come running back.

Krissy swings a big leather jacket at Dean’s legs, “Come _on_ , Dad!”

“Alright, alright!” He grabs the jacket and puts it on, “Some other time, then,” he says to Castiel and winks at him as he leaves.

Castiel feels warm all the way to the tip of his toes.

 

 

Castiel is at the museum on Wednesday. He is not on duty at any point today, but he is working on his research. 

He has skimmed the titles of 2,000 articles and is in the process of reading abstracts, hunched over the desk in his office at the museum, which is overflowing with papers, books and replicas of important paraphernalia. 

His glasses are forgotten on Hanna’s TV table last night, so he is wearing contacts today, meaning his eyes are straining from the change and he rubs the bridge of his nose, willing his head ache to go away.

When the words start to swim together, he pushes himself away from the table and allows himself a minute and a half to just half-lie on his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. Then he gets up, finds his used coffee mug under a sheet of paper and trudges toward the cafeteria. 

He eats a turkey roll from the cafeteria that Hanna lets him warm up in the microwave and drinks a sparkling water. After his lunch he fills his coffee cup and starts the way back to his office. He stops in his tracks when he sees a familiar shape, seeming to ponder over key chains and puzzle games in the gift shop. He makes a detour.

“Hello, Dean,” he says to the man now carefully considering stationary.

Dean drops a pencil sharpener shaped like the skull of a pterodactyl at his voice, “Shit! Cas, hey,” he smiles awkwardly as he collects the skull.

“How are you?” He skims the shop, “No kids today?”

“No, uh, they’re with their mom today. I’m gift shopping,” He says and gestures around him as an excuse.

Castiel squints at the overpriced items around them, “I can see that.”

“Yeah, heh,” Dean mumbles and scratches his back awkwardly. Castiel shifts his mug to the other hand, the coffee starting to burn his fingers through the ceramic. Dean shuffles his feet and Castiel is just about to excuse himself when Dean clears his throat, “I was hoping to run into you, actually.”

Castiel feels pleased that Dean came to the museum, alone, to see him. “Yes?”

“I was hoping you could give me some advice,” He says, mostly to his feet before looking up at Cas with a sheepish smile, “I’m so lost with this whole archaeology thing. I know Lisa already got her something great and it’s not a competition or anything, but… I just wanna get her something she actually likes, y’know?” He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable.

Castiel squints, “Lisa?”

“Her mom,” he explains.

Castiel frowns, silently wondering why mother and father would give their children gifts separately but figures he is not only not a father but also single and gay, so what does he know. It is not like his own family ever gave him a good base for what is normal.

He considers what he knows about Krissy, being a child and ancient Egypt for a moment, then lights up with an idea. “I have those books I told her about. They might be digestible for a child her age, and I have a semi-authentic board game as well.” So the board game is a souvenir from Gabriel but it was purchased in Egypt and looks artfully rough around the edges.

“Really? Cas, that would be perfect. She’s only eight, but she’s pretty advanced so it would be right up her street!” Dean says, eyebrows raised in excitement.

Castiel feels warm and bubbly at Dean’s smile. “They’re in my office. If you’d like to see them,” he points his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the direction of his office.

Dean agrees and they walk through the museum together, back to the offices and finds Castiel's small one in an otherwise dark hallway. Only his desk lamp is on and it has gotten dark outside. His ceiling light broke months ago but he had not gotten around to getting it fixed. He tells Dean as much.

“I even have the bulb,” he points to the box the janitor had left for him months ago, “But I don’t remember if the switch is on or off and I don’t want to electrocute myself,” he explains.

Dean smirks, “So much for a fancy degree and you can’t even change a light bulb?” he teases.

Castiel shoots him an unimpressed look and starts searching for the books, and he thinks he even has some pictures and scribblings on parchment that Krissy might like. He does not pay attention to Dean who is whistling behind him.

“The lightbulb is one thing. It's worse with my laptop. It’s been unable to turn on for the last few weeks and I don’t know why. I have to use one of the university’s outdated laptops and I’m missing a lot of work from my own,” he complains. It has been a headache and the school IT support service had been of no help.

He exhales with annoyance when he cannot find the gifts. They are in a box he knows, but there are a few of those, and all of them in a corner behind the desk, away from the light. He tries feeling his way to them but he is unsure if he is making any progress.

Then the light suddenly comes on and he finds the three scrolls of parchment as well as the game and the book in an instant.

“Wha-?” he turns to look at Dean but where he expected his face to be are his knees. He follows them up to see Dean smiling winningly at him. He is standing on Castiel’s chair, broken bulb raised victoriously in hand. 

Castiel collects the things, blowing the worst of the dust off them, “Thank you,” he says genuinely, trying not to feel like an idiot for hesitating to change his own light bulb. For months.

Dean hops down from the chair, making Castiel nervous for a split second. “It’s the least I can do. Now let me take a look at your laptop,” he says, smiling confidently. 

“Are you good with computers?” Castiel asks, remembering that Dean had said he was a mechanic, not in IT.

Dean shrugs, “I can take a look.”

Castiel gestures to his computer, “Go ahead.”

“Alright,” Dean says, chuckling at Castiel's resigned demeanor. He gets out a multi-tool key chain, and Castiel is not sure why or when an accessory became a turn-on, but it is. Dean turns the computer over and starts taking it apart.

Dean searches it for a few seconds before apparently finding something out of order, “Aha!” he says, and Castiel does not even pretend to understand anything but then Dean’s is putting everything back together and turns on the laptop. It makes the turning on noise and it is music to Castiel’s ears, and then a few seconds later Windows is welcoming _Castiel J. Novak_ , and Castiel finds all his work that he has not seen since his computer broke. 

“Ta dah,” Dean smiles at Castiel. “It was just some dust in the hardware. I’d save everything to a cloud or something every once in a while, just to be sure you have a backup, if I were you.”

“Dean, thank you so much,” Castiel says.

Then Castiel shows Dean the items that they actually came here for, and Dean nods at the information Castiel gives him about them. “Are you sure you want to part with this?” he asks. 

“Of course. Most of these are souvenirs from years ago. As you can see from the dust, it’s not something I get any use out of anymore. I would be happy to give them to someone who’d get joy out of it,” he assures Dean.

Dean smiles gratefully at him, “You’re the best. How much do you want for it?” he asks.

Castiel squints. These things were just lying under piles of dust and old stuff. He tells Dean that he can just have it.

But Dean protests, holding his hands up in front of him, “Oh no, Cas. I couldn’t possibly accept that. Please, let me pay you for this.”

Castiel does not know how else to explain it to him. The stuff is essentially worthless to him, they are things he would have thrown away if he ever sorted through his things. He tries to convey it to Dean in a more delicate way: “Dean, the only worth this has to me is making your daughter happy for Christmas.”

He is not sure if that is the right thing so say. Dean stares at him with his mouth open in disbelief. “Cas, you barely know us.”

He shrugs.

Dean blinks a couple of times, looks at the items in front of them. “Wow. It’s way too much. Thank you, really.”

“I assure you it’s no problem at all,” Castiel says.

“Can’t I do something to pay you back? Make you dinner at least?” Dean asks, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and his eyes still on Krissy’s present. Castiel is not good with signals and social cues but he thinks Dean is nervous.

Castiel swallows once, wanting to say the right thing for once in his life. “Uhm, okay. I mean you did just fix my computer but I would be amenable for dinner.”

Dean finally looks at him, his smile bright and white in the new light, and Castiel’s stomach fills with butterflies.  
Then they fizzle and die, “Wait, what about Lisa?” he asks.

A crease appears between Dean’s brows for a second, “Lisa? I’m all alone tonight. I was probably just gonna order in.”

Realization dawns on Castiel and what was excitement moments ago feels like tar at the bottom of his stomach. But having Dean as a friend is good also, he decides.

Castiel saves his documents on his loaned laptop and piles his papers into somewhat manageable piles and then they turn off the lights and leave. The museum is closed already when they make their way to the exit, the hallways dark. They meet Ash and Meg on the way out, but no one mentions anything out of the ordinary, i.e. the extremely handsome man Castiel is walking with.

Dean asks if Castiel came by car when they reach the parking lot, and when Castiel confirms in the negative they get in Dean’s car, a sleek, black, classic thing that Castiel knows nothing about.  
From Dean’s face he can tell he should say something about it. He runs a hand over the dashboard, “It’s a nice car,” is the only thing he can think of.

It is enough. Dean smiles bright and self-assured, “Isn’t she a thing of beauty?” then he lists some things and a year and a name and Castiel gets confused.

They drive to a Whole Foods to get ingredients for dinner, and Dean shoots Castiel a look, “I know. It’s Lisa’s fault, I don’t really care about this organic, gluten free crap or whatever. It’s just a habit now.”

Castiel chuckles but remains silent otherwise.

They finish their shopping quickly and Dean drives them to a quiet neighborhood with similar cream and pastel colored houses and green front yards and basket ball nets on the garage doors.  
Dean stops at a smaller two-story house. Castiel thinks there usually must be flowers in the front yard, if it was not December and the frost was killing them for the season. 

Dean unlocks the door and turns on most of the light on the first floor. “Make yourself at home while I get this stuff ready,” he says and carries the groceries to the kitchen. 

Castiel follows him. It is not overly big, but comfortable for a family of four. There is a kitchen island with three bar stools dividing the cooking area from the dining area. The cupboards are a light wood that reminds Castiel of going to his uncle’s fishing cabin in the summer time, where the sunlight was streaming in through old punctured windows, casting the room in a surreal light.

While Dean unpacks, Castiel looks at the drawings on the fridge. Children’s drawings of families of varying sizes. There is Dean, Lisa, Krissy and a baby labelled Ben in one. Then Dean, Krissy, Ben and a dog named Bones. There is one with a lot of people; Bobby, Mary and Sam plus the others.

The island is somewhat empty. There is a cup with colored pencils and a block of white paper, and a drill that looks like it is only there because it was used recently. He leaves the kitchen and notices that the house is generally well-organized, considering two kids under ten lives there. 

There are three black and white baby portraits in the hallway that look like they were taken professionally. There is Krissy and Ben individually and one of Krissy holding Ben. There is also a picture in color, albeit very faded. It is Dean, many years younger, leaning against the car Castiel was just in, another, younger, boy next to him, and an old guy in a wheel chair next to them. It is not professionally taken, by any means. The older guy is talking, maybe scorning the boys, and Dean is laughing. The younger boy is looking at Dean with admiration, laughter playing on his lips as well.

Castiel has made his way to the living room when Dean joins him. He is studying a picture of Dean and who he guesses must be Lisa. She has dark hair and dark eyes, like Krissy but the girl must get her very fair complexion from her dad. 

“Hey,” Dean says. He is leaning against the door frame. Castiel whips around, feeling like he got caught doing something embarrassing though he supposes he did not. “What do you wanna drink? I have a bottle of wine I’ll never find an occasion to drink if you’re interested?”

“That sounds good,” he smiles at Dean who grins back, like they are conspiring or something. Dean leaves and comes back with two glasses of red wine a minute later.

Castiel asks him about the picture in the hallway and Dean tells him about his sort-of dad, Bobby in the wheel chair and his brother and best friend Sam. They are back in the kitchen so Dean can keep an eye on the food.

“We lived with Bobby for a while back then because my parents were separating,” he tells Castiel. “It was a nasty divorce, because they really did love each other, but my dad was just a mess.”

“I’m sorry. It’s always hard when parents get divorced,” Castiel offers. 

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles, not looking at him. He chews his bottom lip before saying, “But sometimes it’s harder if they don’t, you know?”

Castiel does not have the knowledge to reply. Dean’s meaning seems to lie beyond those words and Castiel does not want to pry. He just agrees.

“Of course, what was hard about my parents wasn’t really the divorce part, as much as it was the second secret family and the drinking parts,” Dean reveals, then looks guiltily at Castiel, “I’m sorry, I’m oversharing.”

Castiel sits upright, “No, I assure you. I want to hear about you.”

Dean smiles shyly over the top of his glass before taking a sip, the tops of his ears going red.

“How long have you and Lisa been married?” Castiel asks to shake himself out of the warm feelings he is getting at that sight.

Dean inhales, “10 years. We got married when we were 18, you know, just a complete statistic,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly. 

Castiel squints, “So young?”

“She got pregnant,” Dean explains, like it is obvious. “We’d only been together for a few months, actually, and she ended up losing it, but we were already married by then, so…” he shrugs.

“Oh, well… Seems it turned out for you, anyway.” Castiel says, mostly to say something.

“Yeah, I mean, we got Krissy and Ben out of it, so I don’t have any regrets,” he says, grinning, “Besides, she really is one of my closest friends.”

Castiel takes a large sip of wine, swallowing it hard. He’s not sure he wants to hear about how wonderful Dean’s marriage is. But of course, if he wants to be friends with him, he really should not be harboring resentment for his wife and _closest friend_ already. He tries to tell the bitter voice in his head to shut up.

“What about you?” Dean asks, looking at Castiel over his shoulder while he does the last preparations of their meal, “Ever been married?”

Castiel winces and traces a line in the top of the island he is sitting at with his nail, “Oh no. I’ve really been dedicated to academia for most of my adult life.”

“I bet,” Dean says, sounding interested while he pulls out two plates and silverware for them. He stacks it in front of Castiel before turning back to the food. 

Castiel gets up and sets the table behind him. “I didn’t really spare much time for dating until I had finished my bachelor’s degree. Of course, by then everyone my age already knew everything about dating and I was like an awkward middle schooler,” Castiel says, using Gabriel’s words from back then.

It works and Dean snorts a laugh. “Wow. That’s rough.”

Castiel chuckles despite himself, “Yes. So I don’t have much history in that department.”

Dean puts the food on a coaster in the middle of the table and brings the rest of the wine before gesturing to Castiel and they both sit down.  
“Imagine trying to navigate the dating scene after 10 years of being with the same person,” Dean chuckles, serving Castiel. 

Castiel grins at what he supposes is Dean’s hypothetical, “Probably very similar to an awkward middle schooler as well, no?”

Dean grins just as loud this time, “Hah! Yeah, understatement. Do you know there are _apps_ now?”

“Oh yes,” Castiel confesses, looking down. “Too well.”

“Not too much success with those, then?” Dean asks, laughter on his voice.

Castiel gives him a look, “My brother set up my account without my knowledge. He put D-T-F in my profile and didn’t tell me what it meant. When every conversation started out with very inappropriate gestures, I eventually deleted the whole thing, and only learned what that acronym meant after.”

Dean laughed but stopped to think, looking up as he pondered, “D-T-F? Huh… So what’s it mean?”

Castiel flushed, he had not considered having to say it out loud, “Down to… uh, you know?”

Dean just stared questioningly at him. The only light was from the kitchen and it was casting beautiful shadows on Dean’s face. He smelled faintly of red wine and his lips were stained darker than usual. Castiel licked his lips.

“Fuck?” Castiel said with a weak voice.

Dean’s eyes were hooded, and he blinked slowly, staring at Castiel’s face, “Oh?”

Castiel swallowed and reached for his glass only to find it empty. “Y-yes.”

Dean seemed to realize where he was and shook his head, grabbing the bottle of wine next to his elbow to refill Castiel’s and his own glasses. He chuckled awkwardly. “I can see how that might affect a first impression.”

Castiel nodded and took a sip of his full-again glass. Dean changed to topic by asking about Peru.

They finished their meals without any more awkwardness and Dean cleared the table, refusing any help from Castiel. Then they moved to the couch in the living room. It was soft from use and had colored lines from uncapped markers lying around. There was a soft stuffed skunk in one corner.

They talked about travelling. How Castiel had done some, travelling for field work ever since undergrad, and getting a sponsored stay for one semester in Chile. Most of his travels had been in Central and South America, but he had family in Europe, so he had gone to boarding school for one year in France and spent a few summers in Spain and Italy as a child. Never Egypt though.

“Well, I’ve never travelled much anywhere, but seems like I’m gonna have to take Krissy to Egypt some time. You can come with us,” he says, a note of flirting in his voice and in his smile.

Castiel cannot help but be drawn in by it, and nods, “Yes, Krissy can tell us all about it while seeing it. Wait, what about Ben?” he asks.

Dean chuckled, his head leaning on his hand, his elbow leaning on the back of the couch as he was turned towards Castiel. Castiel’s shoulder rested against the back of the couch, both his hands holding the wine glass in his lap. His foot was resting on the couch, the top of his socked foot feeling the warmth from Dean’s knee. “Well, he’d come too of course,” Dean says.

“Where could we go to see dinosaurs?” Castiel ponder out loud.

“Oh,” Dean says, “He’s over those. It’s all about space now. I think Egypt is already a little out of my pay grade so I don’t think Ben will get his space trip,” he grins.

Castiel thinks about this change, “Do you know there are many space camps for children? You mentioned Krissy going to camp during her break.”

Dean nodded, “My brother said the same thing. But Ben is only five and has the younger sibling mentality to a degree where I don’t think he’s headed anywhere without a parent or a Krissy anytime soon.”

“Oh, of course,” Castiel says. He should have known. Ben was too young to go to camp alone.

“But it’s nice that you think of him,” Dean says, genuine. He reaches over to put his half-drunk glass of wine on the coffee table. “It’s cool that you care about them.”

Castiel swirls the last of his wine in his glass, suddenly shy. “Well… They’re great kids.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, voice breathy. He’s smiling at Castiel, still all genuine, “And you’re pretty great for saying that.”

Castiel looks up at Dean to find him leaning closer to him. Castiel licks his lips and lets Dean take his glass to put on the table. Dean’s hand finds Castiel’s wrist afterwards, holding it loosely, his hand a warm and comforting weight, contrasting the lightheadedness Castiel feels. Dean is moving closer, his breath warm and sweet with wine, his eyes shining green in the muted light and Castiel did not realize before just how many freckles he has.

He knows what is coming and he licks his lips in anticipation of it. He tips his head up to meet Dean at the last inch, pressing his lips to Dean’s. 

It is nice. Wonderful, really. Dean parts his lips, and his breath is warm against Castiel’s tongue. His teeth graze over Castiel’s lower lip, and Castiel sucks in a breath. Then they pull apart.  
Dean’s breath is coming shorter against Castiel’s lips, and his green eyes are searching Castiel’s own.

Castiel leans forwards for a quick press of lips more, smiling softly when he pulls back. Dean grins and squeezes Castiel’s wrist.

Then Dean’s phone rings, and Castiel just barely sees the name LISA and a picture of the woman he saw in the other picture earlier, flashing across Dean’s phone-screen.

Dean mouths a sorry to Castiel and gets up to answer the phone. He has the conversation in the hallway rather than in front of Castiel, and Castiel can hear him saying goodnight to his kids.   
He feels sick suddenly and it is not the glass and a half of wine. He gets up and brings the wine glasses to the kitchen. Then he waits for Dean. He just wants to leave.  
Dean’s does not spend long on the phone, mostly just the ‘goodnight’s and ‘I love you’s to his kids. 

“Sorry about that,” Dean says as he finds Castiel in the kitchen. He walks closer to Castiel.

Castiel pushes off the island he was leaning on, “Don’t worry about it.” He goes towards the hallway and the closet where his coat is, “I really do have to get going though.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even realize what time it was,” Dean says, not finding anything weird about Castiel’s behavior, and not finding anything weird about their kissing being interrupted by a call from his wife.  
Dean takes his own jacket and pulls it on, “I’ll take you home.”

Castiel feels like he should decline, but the metros and buses are a nightmare at this time of night and he has quite a ways to go. “Thank you,” he says.

While in the car Dean is back to gushing about the presents for Krissy while Castiel gives directions. “I’ll put you on the card too, okay? It’s only fair.” He says.

“You don’t have to do that,” Castiel tells him. 

“Aw, come on,” he gently slaps Castiel just over his knee before putting his hand back on the wheel. “She already thinks you’re the coolest person since like Cleopatra and Taylor Swift. She’d like it if it was from you too.”

And how can that not melt Castiel? “Okay then,” he accepts, matching Dean’s smile. 

They stop in front of Castiel’s home, an old apartment building. He rests his hand on the doorknob, not sure how to end the evening.

“Hey, can I have you number? I’d like to see you again without having to wander around the gift shop for 40 minutes,” Dean grins, already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Castiel’s stomach swoops with butterflies. Dean had really come to the museum today to see him. “Okay,” he takes the phone and codes in his contact. He hands the phone back and Dean holds his hand, while they kiss again, before Castiel can even think about his screwed moral compass. 

“I’ll see you, Cas. And I’ll text you!” Dean says as Castiel gets out of the car.

Castiel bends down to see Dean, once outside the car, “Yes, okay. Goodnight, Dean. See you.”

“Sleep tight,” Dean says as Castiel closes the door, and he waits while Castiel makes his way to the front door, unlocks it and goes inside. Castiel watches him take off out of the peephole in his door and does not know how he can feel so good and so bad at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel spends a lot of time at the university before the winter break starts. The archaeology students suddenly have a flood of questions before the final and Castiel tries to stay where they can find him, and spends many hours answering their emails.

Dean texts him the day after their… date. Castiel forgets all about his students’ emails and smiles giddily at his phone. He asks when Krissy can come and look at his books, and Dean tells him she does not have time until after Christmas because she and Ben are visiting their grandparents in Illinois and spending Christmas there. Castiel does not ask why Dean is not there to spend it with them. He figures that Dean would tell him if he wanted Castiel to know.

Instead Dean asks him to go ice-skating one Saturday morning when he learns that Castiel is not working at the museum that weekend.

There is an ice-skating rink set up in the middle of the town, and Dean is already there by the time Castiel finds it. He is wearing a matching set of a bright purple hat and gloves. 

“Krissy made them,” Dean says as an excuse when Castiel eyes them.

But Castiel is wearing a bright orange fleece hat so he does not feel like he can comment on Dean’s attire. His is not even made by any relatives, it was just on sale last year.

Dean kisses Castiel softly, squeezing his gloved fingers once before they get their skates and make their way to the ice.

Castiel warns Dean that he has not skated since he was a boy, and Dean says that that makes two of them. Despite this, it is Castiel’s fault every time they fall, Castiel slipping and pulling Dean down by their linked hands. He gets a laugh every time, and the feeling of Dean’s warm weight partly on top of him is not unwelcome. 

When Dean hurts his knee on one particularly heavy fall they return the skates to get mulled wine and browse the Christmas market nearby instead.

Dean finds knitted finger puppets and puts ten different ones on his fingers. He puts on a show about farm animals escaping the farm to pursue archaeology for Castiel, and Castiel laughs loudly at the absurdity. 

He has not spent much time around kids or people who have kids. There are his parents, of course. And some of his coworkers. But none of his siblings or friends have started a family, so Dean’s playfulness and pedagogical approach is refreshing. 

Of course, he does not know if Dean is like this because he has young children or if he has always been like this. But it does not matter to Castiel. And despite anything he has ever thought about himself, he finds Dean’s kids to be a plus in his book.

Anna will be proud, and Gabriel is not going to believe him when they find out.

They walk for a while before stopping in front of a booth with figures carved in wood. Castiel runs his gloved fingers over the smooth surface and Dean leans in close to him, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel studies the figure. An uncolored reindeer except for the nose which is painted bright red. He cannot decide whether he likes it. “What do you think of this?” he asks Dean.

Dean shrugs, rustling Castiel as he is still leaning on him, “I dunno. It’s good handiwork.”

Castiel hums in agreement, squinting at the figure.

“Dean?” a female voice says then and the weight on Castiel’s shoulder leaves him and he feels cold.

“Andrea, Benny, hey,” Dean says, surprise evident in his voice. He hugs them in turn. When he does not do anything else, Castiel shifts out from behind him, waiting to be introduced, except he is not. Dean’s two friends smile at him, clearly also expecting to be introduced to him.

When nothing happens, the woman grabs Dean’s forearm, “I heard Lisa took the kids to Illinois, leaving you all alone.” She says, eyebrows scrunched in sympathy.

“Not _all_ alone,” the man says, nodding at Castiel.

Dean finally realizes that he is still there and takes a step to the side, “Uh, yeah. This is Cas. Cas, this is Benny and Andrea. Benny and I went to high school together.” He makes the introductions without looking anyone in the eye.

Andrea shoots Dean a funny look that he misses before giving Castiel a friendly smile and shaking his hands between both of hers, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see Dean actually make a new… _friend_ ,” Benny says, smirking at Dean who just looks uncomfortable. “But of course, being married for 10 years can make it pretty hard to meet new people,” Benny continues, teasing on his voice.

Dean kicks his boot, “Okay, thanks, Benny,” he says unsmiling.

Benny backs off, raising his hands in front of him in innocence, mouthing ‘ _touchy_ ’.

Uncomfortable silence settles over them after that. Castiel knows that Dean could just not like these two people very much, but he gets the distinct feeling that it is his own presence that is making it weird.

Dean is still not meeting anyone’s eyes and after a moment Benny clears his throat, “Well, it’s was nice to see ya, brother. Come over any time.” He taps Dean on the shoulder in friendliness.

Dean touches Benny’s hand on his shoulder briefly, “Yeah. Merry Christmas,” he tells them both. They nod at Castiel with awkward smiles before leaving.

They stand in silence for a bit after that. Castiel is expecting Dean to tell him what just happened.

He is disappointed, however, when Dean just rubs his hands together for warmth and turns to Castiel, “Wanna get out of here?”

Castiel frowns but says, “Okay.” And Dean grabs his hand and they walk towards the parking lot.

“I’ll take you home,” Dean says, smiling now, like Castiel imagined that awful, awkward situation.

They get to the car and drive in silence for a few minutes. Castiel clears his throat. He wants to say something. About Dean’s friends and the whole situation. He thinks through the interaction, and suddenly feels bile rise in his throat at himself. 

Dean’s friends must know that Dean is married. And they must have seen them standing so close, Dean lips practically on Castiel’s ear. Castiel knows they must jump to conclusions and the worst part is that they would be right.

And Lisa has taken the kids to her parents in Illinois. Castiel frowns in thought. Has Dean already told her about him? And could it be she got mad and left? He is getting a tension headache from thinking about this.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, voice weak, like he knows exactly what the matter is.

“Why is Lisa in Illlinois?” Castiel asks.

Dean looks surprised at the question, like that was not what he was expecting Castiel to care about. “Her parents live there. Her dad is really sick, so it might be his last Christmas. That’s why she wanted to take the kids,” Dean tells him.

“Why didn’t you go?” Castiel asks, bewildered as to why someone would not go with their own wife and children to a sick relative for Christmas. Was that not what marriage was about?

Dean taps nervously on the steering wheel with his still gloved fingers, “They don’t like me.”

Castiel frowns.

Dean bites his lip, “Yeah, they don’t really agree with… uhm, my ‘choices’ or whatever,” swallowing nervously.

Castiel ponders what choices Dean is referring to. Could it be the going on dates with other people? “And what about Lisa? How does she feel about your choices?” he asks, and he knows he did not keep the bitter edge from his voice as well as he had wanted to.

Dean knits his eyebrows together in confusion. “She’s… fine with it? It wasn’t what she expected but she’s… She understood.” Dean’s voice is serious, sad almost. Castiel suddenly feels bad.

He does not know Lisa and he does not know their relationship. It is Dean’s choice to make.

But is it not sort of Castiel’s too? He knows Dean is married, to the mother of his two children no less. He should not be enabling this. He should stop it.

He does not have the guts to, and he does not get them for the rest of the trip either. So he says nothing. Promises himself that he will be Dean’s friend, and no more. He will let Krissy borrow his books and then he will leave them alone.

When Dean drops him off, he lets him kiss his cheek. As he gets out, Dean catches his hand, so he stops to hear what he wants.

His eyes are nervous, scared maybe even. “Hey, I’m sorry about… Uhm, Benny and Andrea, you know? I should have introduced you right away.”

Castiel frowns. So it had been a conscious decision of Dean’s to not introduce him if he could have avoided it. His stomach feels like he swallowed a pound of lead.

“It’s not you. It’s really, really not,” Dean promises, “I’m just an idiot.”

"Uhm, it’s okay,” is all Castiel can think to say. He slides his hand out of Dean’s but not before giving it a reassuring squeeze despite himself. “I’ll see you.”

Dean smiles then, relieved. “Yeah. I’ll text you. Merry Christmas if I don’t see you before then.”

“Merry Christmas,” Castiel says, smiling softly, and curses how warm he feels inside.

Again, Dean does not drive off until Castiel is safely inside and Castiel tries to will himself to not look after his car when he does, but apparently, he lost most of his willpower when he met Dean.

 

Castiel spends Christmas at his grandparents’ house. They are old and always complaining about the lack of grandchildren, but once everyone gets drunk on the expensive red wine and whisky his mother brought for Christmas eve, they all have a good time.

His mom is out on the porch late that night, avoiding the annual game of bridge that everyone cheats at, and smoking a cigarette which she only does when she drinks too much wine.

Castiel joins her, leaning against the railing in front of her, as she rocks back and forth in the old rocking chair that has been there in all the time Castiel has been alive.

“No bridge for you either?” she asks.

Castiel shakes his head.

“Can’t say I blame you,” she shares a conspiring smile with him. Castiel tops off her glass with the half-full bottle he brought with him outside, before he takes a sip from the bottle.

His mother does not comment on it. She has changed a lot. When Castiel was growing up, every meal was about keeping your elbows off the table, using the right fork, playing appropriate post-dinner music on the piano while the grown-ups drank coffee. 

Castiel does not feel poorer for the childhood he had, but the skills they focused on have never been useful to him. Most people think it is annoying when you exercise completely appropriate etiquette. But it is not because Castiel’s childhood was completely hopeless.

He remembers spending a winter break in Aspen. He would go skiing with his cousins and siblings during the day, and Gabriel would draw simple shapes in yellow snow that they could see from the ski lifts. They would get drunk on Irish coffee to warm up after skiing, and Anna would walk around with a stack of books on her head, like their mother had taught her, and they would balance more obscure and fragile things on her head until she broke the authentic polar bear rug by spilling a rum toddy on it when the stack of books and the mug it had been in fell from her head.   
They had been scared to tell their dad, but he had just laughed. He said the cabin always smelled like rum anyway. Castiel wonders where he is these days. If he brings his new wife who is Castiel's age to that cabin.

“Are you happy?” his mother asks, bringing him out of his reverie. 

Castiel thinks about it. He is passionate about his Ph.D. and the work at the museum is easy and somewhat relevant for him (when his boss does not make him watch kids or sell tickets). He has few but good friends. There is Dean.

“Yes,” he tells her, honest.

“Do you think your siblings are?” she asks then.

Castiel knows this, even if he rarely talks to them. They would tell him if they were not. “Yes. They are.” It has not been this easy always. But as everyone got older and let each other be who they wanted to be, everyone had gotten along better than ever.

His mom nods. “That makes me happy.” They are quiet for a bit before she speaks again, “I worry sometimes. You’re all single, except for Gabriel, and I will never understand his and Kali’s relationship. None of you ever talk about starting a family, about kids. I wonder if I did something wrong, to make you not want that.”

Castiel mulls it over. Gabriel is too much of a career man. Anna cannot stay in one place for a long time. Castiel had always been too occupied with his studies. “We have a family,” he tells her, hoping to reassure her, “You made us safe enough that we could pursue our dreams. That’s what we’re doing.” He does not bring up the disaster of the divorce; how he think him and his siblings are all at least a little scared of commitment after it.

His mom nods, thoughtful. “I know your siblings probably don’t have what it takes to settle down. But what about you? I know kids may not seem natural, but do you think you will ever want a family?” 

Castiel knows she means well. The whole gay thing had taken her by surprise, and there had been some weirdness for a few years. She had come around since then but sometime she said things that Castiel would have taken offence at if it had been anyone but her. Castiel knows it comes from a place of ignorance, not ill will. Had Anna heard her, she would have gotten a lecture, he is sure of it.

“I… Didn’t. I didn’t even think about it for so long. But things have changed lately. I met someone,” Castiel say, with wonder more than excitement. He knows that what he feels for Dean will always be too much for friendship. He knows that Dean’s kids are bright and brilliant and beautiful. He knows they make him feel warm inside. But he knows that Dean is married. And he does not know what to do with it.

“Oh? Someone?” his mother says, interest peaked.

Castiel takes another sip from the bottle, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “I don’t think anything will come of it.”

His mother frowns, “What makes you say that? I don’t think I’ve heard of you meeting someone since you were a freshman in undergrad.”

“I know,” Castiel rolls his eyes at that, “But he has a family. Kids.”

“You… don’t want them?” his mother asks, voice low but clear.

Castiel nods, “I do. But it makes things complicated. He isn’t mine.”

His mother exhales a small laugh, “Is this about not wanting to share? Now I recognize you.”

Castiel rolls his eyes again. “It’s not about sharing. It’s about how I shouldn’t want him.”

“Castiel, sweetie,” his mother reaches out and he takes her hand. She squeezes his fingertips gently. They are kept warm by the wine. “You allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to want things, people, that make you happy.”

Castiel does not say anything. Wonders what she would say if she knew. Castiel is not allowed to want Dean. Even if Dean wants him too. Dean already has someone and Castiel needs to leave them be, needs to let them have their happiness.

He takes one last sip of the bottle before they go back inside, where everyone is fighting over who won.

 

After Christmas Castiel gets back to work. He ends up manning the kids’ section more often than not during their extended opening hours in the holidays. It is a welcome distraction, if he is honest.

There are a lot of them, the kids that is, and Castiel is reminded that they are not all polite and cute and great like Krissy and Ben, but most of them are loud and inconsiderate and messy. 

They wipe boogers on the museum’s things and throw sand and shout. And Castiel got a cold within the first day because the kids kept sneezing without covering their mouths.

He is wearing an old knit sweater that scratches his arms, and a large scarf that might be Anna’s, and keeps a mug of tea on him at all times.

By the fourth day, he is starting to get somewhat miserable. 

That is until someone runs smack into his legs, hugging his knees with tiny arms. Ben is looking up at him with large eyes that match his father’s when Castiel looks down. 

“Hello Ben. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” he says back and then Krissy is there, smiling brightly at her in a way that also reminds him of her father.

She hugs him too, around his waist. Ben gets trapped between their legs but does not seem to mind. “Thank you for the Christmas present!” Krissy says.

He does not know what to do. He gently pats her shoulder blade through a thick and fluffy sweater. “The present was from your dad. I simply helped him find it.”

She lets go of him and gives him a look, both hands on her hips, “Without you he would have given me something totally lame. Like a CD or something, because he’s actually ancient.”

Castiel refrains from pointing out that he is actually older than Dean. And that her gifts were much more ancient than a CD.

“Mom!” Ben yells at a confused-looking woman. He is sitting on the floor now, following the cracks in the tiles with his fingertips.

The woman comes over to them, first looking apologetic, then smiling brightly. With that smile, Castiel starts to recognize her from Dean’s picture. He feels the blood drain from his face.

She sticks her hand out, “You must be Cas! I have heard so much about you!” she says enthusiastically. 

Castiel gives her what is sure to be an unnerving smile as he shakes her hand. “Lisa, I presume?” he says.

“Yep,” she blows a piece of hair that has come loose from her ponytail out of her eye. She is beautiful. “I have been so excited to meet you. I have the two of them _and_ Dean who just won’t shut up about you.”

Castiel feels lightheaded. Dean has told her about him? Why? To what extend?

“You’re pretty much a super hero in the Winchester household,” she says, laughing. When Castiel does not say anything, her smile fades to be replaced with an expression of worry.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he says, “I have to go.” And then he turns on his heel and leaves. His head is pounding, and it feels like his stomach has dropped right out of him. He takes refuge in his office where he throws up the tea and the line of saltines he had for lunch in his trashcan. 

Because Lisa is beautiful and warm and charming, and everything Dean deserves in a partner. Castiel does not want to get between them, and the tiny part of him that does want to, he squashes down. They deserve better. They deserve each other.

 

Dean calls him later that day but Castiel lets it go to voicemail. He does the same the next four days when Dean keeps calling him. He wants most of all to throw his phone out of the window but has enough sense to know that that is not the mature way of handling this. 

It is not until New Year’s Eve day that he sees Dean again. 

He is at home. Every year for New Year’s Eve, he has anti-plans. They always consist of a nice dinner and a bottle of wine for himself. This year is no any different. To pass the time until the evening he reads this year’s family must-read. It is an erotica this year because Gabriel chose. Then the doorbell rings.

It is Dean, of course. It had to be. He has a paper bag from Whole Foods with him and smiles when he sees Castiel. His cheeks have a nice flush to them from the cold.

Castiel stays half-way behind the door, very aware that he is wearing his pyjamas. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Dean steps closer, “Heard you were sick. Brought soup,” he holds up the paper bag, and Castiel’s stomach knots from wanting to melt and turn to pure bile at the same time. 

Castiel opens the door for him and Dean walks inside. “Thank you,” he says, feeling guilty because he really was not all that sick.

“Are you feeling better?” Dean asks, real concern in his eyes.

It makes it that much harder for Castiel, who swallows. “Dean, I think you should go.”

Confusion and surprise cross his face, and his frowns. “… Do you not feel well?” he asks, with a voice that says that he knows that is not the issue.

Castiel worries his lower lip, not meeting Dean’s eyes, “I can’t…” he looks up at the other man, “I just can’t.”

Dean has put the bag with the soup on the floor and is moving towards the door when Castiel holds it open, “Did I do something?” he asks, hurt so clear on his face that Castiel wants to cry, wants to reach out and hug Dean.

“Please, Dean,” Castiel just says and it is enough. The expression on Dean’s face when he says goodbye breaks Castiel’s heart, but he knows it has to be like this.

The wine and dinner he makes later ends up tasting like dust and bile in his mouth, and he lies awake all night, staring at his ceiling that turns green and red and white from the light of the fireworks outside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so this fic was finished a few weeks ago, and it's not perfect but I'm just excited that I actually wrote a fic again so bear with it. There's one more chapter after this and I'll probably upload it tomorrow or Tuesday while procrastinating from my paper on macroeconomics. :)

Castiel is back at the museum in the new year. He is doing more research now and his classes start again soon. He has a few at the university this semester. But today he is manning the kid’s section because Meg is still hungover from New Year’s, and he is trying not to be bitter about it. He owed Meg a favor anyway.

Heis skimming an article while the few kids who are there play. No one is causing any trouble, almost like they know Castiel is going through a heartache.

But then there is noise. Some kids running and yelling as they enter the playroom, one of them mimicking an airplane. Castiel shoots a look over the top of his glasses, one that always gets his students to settle down, and they are grownups.

It works on the kid too, who stops and looks guilty, “Sorry Cas!” he yells from across the room, because it had to be Ben. Who else?

Castiel smiles at him, “Inside voice, Ben,” he reminds him. Ben clamps both hands over his mouth dramatically and sprints in Castiel’s direction.

Castiel looks around but doesn’t see either Dean or Lisa.

Ben climbs into his lap and Castiel tries to figure out what to do with his hands. “How are you, Ben?”

“Good! Krissy’s at camp so me and Dad built a pillow fort in the living room and he let me have s’mores for dinner yesterday,” he tells him looking up at him, his forehead brushing Castiel’s chin.

“That certainly sounds fun,” Castiel agrees, “Where is you dad?” he asks, just because he does not need the surprise.

“He’s home probably. I’m here with Emma,” he points to a blonde girl who is digging in one of the sand boxes a few feet from them. The girl’s mother is sitting next to her, reading the museum’s pamphlet.

“I see,” Castiel says.

“Maybe you can come over and see our fort later,” Ben suggests, “When you’re done babysitting and reading big words.”

Castiel chuckles at the basic description, “Is that what you think I do?”

“Isn’t it?” he’s playing with the fingers on one of Castiel’s hands.

Castiel thinks about it, “I suppose it is.”

They are quiet for a bit. Ben leaves him to get a toy dinosaur from the box of museum toys, then takes his place on Castiel’s lap again. The dinosaur ventures over Castiel’s knee while Castiel tries to continue skimming his article.

“Hey Caaas?” Ben says after a while. The dinosaur is flying in his peripheral view, making it hard to concentrate on his reading.

“Mhmm?” he says, absentmindedly, eyes still skimming a sentence they have skimmed five times now, not registering any meaning.

“Are you Dad’s boyfriend?” Ben says it nonchalantly, head resting in one hand, dinosaur flying in the other.

Castiel drops his paper and chokes on some spit, “I’m sorry?”

Ben leans back to look at him, “It’s because Mom has a new boyfriend. So I thought maybe you were Dad’s.”

Castiel opens and closes his mouth a few times. Why did it never occur to him that they were divorced? 

“Uhm…” is all he manages.

Ben is paying more attention to his toy again, “I like you better than Mom’s boyfriend anyway,” he says with a shrug.

Castiel lifts Ben and puts him down, “Ben, can you go play with your friend? I need to go do something.”

Ben shrugs and skids towards the girl and her mother.

Castiel does not have the patience to go all the way to his office before calling Dean and does it in the staff room instead. 

He answers on the second ring, “Cas?” he sounds breathless, and Castiel feels like it too.

The words refuse to come out at first, and Dean speaks again, “Hello? Is everything alright?”

“I’m so sorry,” Castiel manages, voice breathy.

“What?” 

“I- I’d like to see you. Dean, I misunderstood everything,” he says, the words he wants to say welling up behind his tongue, not enough and too much at once. 

“Okay,” Dean draws it out, thinking. “When?”

“Now,” Castiel almost yells. Dean asks where he is and promises to come pick him up when Castiel tells him.

 

He waits for Dean in the parking lot, not caring that it is snowing. Dean gets there quickly anyway, and Castiel makes his way to the car before Dean can get out.

“Hey,” Dean says, a quizzical look on his face, “Are you alright? You look kind of upset?”

“I am! I’m such a fool,” he tells Dean.

Dean is driving them back to his house, “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Not even a week ago you basically told me you didn’t wanna see me anymore.”

“I know,” Castiel fingers the edges of his sleeves. How does he tell Dean without sounding like an asshole?

Dean worries out loud whether something is wrong, and Castiel spends the journey home assuring him that there is not, and getting enough courage to come clean.

He does not get it until they are in Dean’s kitchen, mugs of coffee in hand. Dean is standing on the kitchen side of the island and Castiel sits on a barstool on the other side.

“So first things first,” Dean says wen Castiel gnaws on his bottom lip for too long, trying to come up with the right words, “Do you do want _this_?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised in a question, gesturing between them.

Castiel warms his hands on the mug and nods. “I’m sorry for my behavior. In all honesty, I didn’t realize you were divorced,” he finally manages, deciding there is no way of saying it that will make him sound less demented.

Dean nearly spits out his coffee, “ _What?_ ”

“Yes. I realize how… stupid that is. You just talked about Lisa so graciously. I suppose I didn’t expect that from someone who’s divorced,” Castiel says and feels like even more of an asshole. But no one in his family talks to his dad, no one has for years. He did not know a divorce could not split up a whole family. “And then when we met your friends at the Christmas market you seemed so nervous to be seen with me, it really just cemented my belief.”

Dean groans and hides his eyes behind one hand, “I’m such an idiot.”

“Huh?” Castiel is caught off guard. How could Dean ever be the idiot in this?

Dean walks around the island to sit on the stool next to Castiel. They twist to face each other, their knees bumping together. 

“I just came out last year. That’s why we got divorced. I finally… accepted that I wasn’t straight, and Lisa and I love each other but we hadn’t been in love for years at that point,” Dean explains.

It is like clouds are parting in Castiel’s mind as things start to make sense.

“Lisa was really understanding, but it was hard telling everybody else that I was bi, and at the same time making them understand that the divorce wasn’t _because_ I’m bi,” Dean says, old frustration evident in his voice. 

“As painless as the divorce was, my life was still a mess because I had to come out and get divorced at the same time, and I had to tell people both things, and I was terrified. Luckily, it was never a big deal, especially since I wasn’t leaving her for a man, which pretty much everyone assumed at first,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“But I haven’t dated anyone since the divorce, and I never talked about my sexuality with anyone since then, _especially not_ Benny, because I didn’t think he’d understand. That’s why I was so nervous about him seeing me at the market, you know, on a date with a dude,” Dean finally explains. He looks embarrassed and Castiel wants to kiss that expression off his face.

Castiel reaches for Dean’s knee, squeezing it lightly, “Thanks for telling me, Dean. I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Hey,” Dean says with a grin, putting his hand over Castiel’s on his knee, “If nothing else it’s nice to know you liked me well enough to date me even though you thought I was married.”

Castiel frowns, “It’s not funny,” but he feels a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth, “I was very conflicted!”

“I bet,” Dean stands up, thighs between Castiel’s knees. He leans further into his personal space, “To be sure, I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a spouse,” he says and Castiel is very preoccupied with watching his lips form the words. They are getting closer to his own. “I’m only interested in you.”

Castiel thinks he may make some indiscernible noise before reaching the last inches to press his lips to Dean’s. Castiel pulls Dean closer by his waist, bundling the fabric of his shirt in his hands. Dean’s hands hold Castiel’s face, his fingers reaching into his hair and pulling at it. Castiel sighs into his mouth at that sensation, which makes Dean smile and lick his way into Castiel’s mouth.

They keep kissing for a while but Castiel has lost all sense of time. His hands are under Dean’s layers of shirts then, trailing nails down his sides. He is about to move his hands down, maybe go for Dean’s belt buckle when the other man finally pulls back.

His lips are red and swollen and Castiel is very captivated by that sight. He tries to pull Dean back in, but Dean stops him, and checks the time on the stove. 

“Ben’ll be home soon,” he tells him, “You need to stop touching me, so my boner’ll go away.” He says but is straining to keeps his own hands off Castiel, his lips tracing Castiel’s hairline.

Castiel stands up, out of Dean’s space, “Yes, that would be inappropriate,” he mumbles, trying to comb his hair with his fingers. He wonders if his own face bears as obvious signs of making out as Dean’s does.

Dean smooths down his clothing and reaches over to unflip the collar of Castiel’s button-down with a smile. 

“Should I go?” Castiel asks, unsure.

Dean smiles softly at his, shrugs one-shouldered, “You could stay. Ben’ll be happy to see you.”

Castiel smiles at that, remembering their conversation earlier, “He wanted show me the pillow fort you built together.”

Dean chuckles, “I’m afraid I cleaned it up this morning. It was epic though.”

Castiel hums, smiling at the thought of father and son building a pillow fort in their living room and sleeping in it. Then, without thinking about it he relays more of their conversation, “He asked me if I was your boyfriend. Since his mother had a new one.”

“Huh,” Dean says, tipping his head to the side on thought, “Guess I don’t have to explain that to him then.”

“You hadn’t told him you are bisexual?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs, “I didn’t tell either of them. I figured they were too young and I would just deal with it when and if I started dating a dude,” he smiles unworried then, “I should know better than to underestimate those two though. Krissy asked me the other day if we’d ever kissed.”

“What did you tell her?” Castiel wonders, grinning.

“Well, I didn’t wanna lie to her,” he chuckles, “So I told her to mind her own business.”

Castiel laughs at that, feeling weirdly relieved at their accept, despite already knowing that both kids likes him. 

The doorbell rings then, interrupting them. Outside is Ben, and the girl and her mother from the museum. The only difference is Ben is wearing a pair of hot pink cargo pants instead of the jeans he had worn at the museum. Castiel doesn’t know what to do, so he stands awkwardly a few feet behind Dean.

“Hi Dean!” the woman says when he opens the door, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and smiling up at him.

“Hey Lydia. How was the museum?” Dean asks, smiling at her and the kids.

Lydia claps her hands together, “Great. Ben was a total dream,” she gushes but then smiles sympathetically, “He did have a little accident right before we left, and I only had Emma’s change of pants in the car, so that’s why he’s wearing hot pink.”

Dean kneels to the kids’ height, “Thank you Emma, for letting Ben borrow your pants,” he says, letting Ben climb into his arms and stands so he is sitting on his hip.

“It’s no problem! Accidents happen,” the girl waves a hand exaggeratedly in a way that makes Castiel think she is mimicking something she has seen a grownup do before.

From his view point on his dad’s hip, Ben spots Castiel behind Dean, “Cas!” he exclaims, waving. 

Castiel steps closer to say hi, coming into the girls’ view.

Emma’s eyebrows raise in recognition, “Hey! You’re from the museum!”

Lydia winks at Dean and asks, “Is this the new guy?” to which Dean just smiles awkwardly.

She reaches her hand out towards Castiel and he shakes it, telling her his name politely. When she looks like she wants to ask him something, Dean steps in, saying they need to start dinner even though it is only 4 in the afternoon.

Lydia does not object though, and she and Emma both say their goodbyes.

When he has closed the door, Dean lets Ben down who runs into the living room and starts making race car noises within 30 seconds.

“Sorry if that seemed kinda abrupt,” Dean says, “Lydia is notorious for gossiping and I don’t need all the parents in Ben’s class asking me to debunk twenty different rumors within a week.”

Castiel chuckles and says it is okay. He has never been around children, he never even babysat for their neighbors when he was a teenager or anything, and he is almost getting culture shock just from a minute and a half play date drop off.

They go into the living room where Ben is playing with cars on the rug. 

“Hey kiddo,” Dean says, sitting on the arm lean of the couch. Ben ignores him. “You need a shower.”

“Why?” he asks, racing his cars against each other.

Dean looks at his back. Despite there being no words to support it, Castiel gets the distinct feeling that they are already in the middle of a conflict. He stays back, unsure what to do with himself.

“Didn’t you pee your pants?” Dean asks in a way that is evident that Ben cannot deny it.

Ben races the car a little further away, “It was just a little bit.”

Dean rolls his eyes and stands up, “Come on, bud.”

The cars stop. Castiel hears Ben sigh loudly. He turns to look at his dad over the shoulder, “Can Cas come?”

Dean looks at Castiel questioningly. Castiel is not sure what to do, so he just shrugs. Dean tells Ben “Yeah, if you go now.”

Ben stands up immediate and runs for the stairs, Dean calling, “No running on the stairs, Benjamin!” and then Ben is defiantly dragging himself slowly up the stairs alongside them.

Castiel has not seen the second floor of the house yet. There are more family pictures hung on the wall in the hallway and some paintings made by the kids. He follows the other two into a big bathroom with white tiles and a whole box of rubber ducks next to a bath tub.

Castiel sits on the lidded toilet a few feet from the bath while Dean sits on the bathmat on the floor next to the bath tub. He looks at Castiel while he undresses Ben, “You don’t have to stay in here. It won’t take long.” 

He has probably noticed Castiel’s silence and awkwardness. He really wishes he had accepted the job in the kindergarten back home that one summer, just so he did not seem so completely out of place when it came to kids.

“I don’t mind,” he tells Dean, honest.

“Can I have a bath?” Ben asks, already pulling rubber ducks with different accessories out of the box. 

“Not today,” Dean says and hoists Ben over the edge of the tub and into it. He turns on the shower and Ben squeals and steps out of the spray, complaining about the temperature.

While Dean rubs shampoo into Ben’s hair, Ben asks Castiel if he likes baths. 

Castiel says that he does and proceeds to tell him about the time when he was seven, and his siblings and he put bubble bath in the outdoor Jacuzzi in their winter cabin.

Ben is absorbed in the story, laughing loudly when Castiel describes the way the tub had overflowed with bubbles, making the patio into a winter wonderland of suds.

Dean hands Ben the shower head to wash off the last bit of soap while getting a towel, which is just out of his reach. In the five seconds Ben has the shower head, he manages to soak one leg of Dean’s pants and most of the floor. 

Castiel chuckles at Dean’s almost-curse and does not mind that his socks get wet when the water reaches his feet.

Despite Ben really only needing a short wash-down, the shower takes close to forty-five minutes, including drying Ben and the floor off, and getting Ben dressed in pyjamas. Castiel realizes again how little he knows about having kids when Dean tells him that Ben almost beat his personal best.

They eat Mac and Cheese after because Ben cries until Dean agrees on the condition that Ben eats a handful of baby carrots as well. He gives Castiel a handful too and Castiel does not even think twice about eating them. It is fun, really, because Castiel had a much more uptight upbringing, and the one time he ever remembers having Mac and Cheese as a kid was when he visited a friend from his violin class who went to public school. 

Dean puts on a children’s TV channel after and Ben spreads out on the rug in front of the TV, lying halfway under the coffee table. Castiel sits down in one corner of the couch and Dean sits down right next to him with his feet pulled up next to him and pushes his shoulder into Castiel’s until Castiel puts his arm around him, which earns him a self-satisfied smile.

“Thanks for being so patient,” Dean says to him. His eyes shift from the animals talking on the screen to meet Castiel’s.

“There has been nothing to be patient with,” Castiel assures him. He may not know much about being around kids, but it really has not been an unpleasant evening, and Castiel enjoys the company of both of Dean and Ben.

Dean relaxes under his arm, “I’m so glad you say that,” he says, sounding relieved, “He’s been behaving suspiciously well tonight.” After a quiet beat between them he says: “You really haven’t spent much time around kids, have you?”

Castiel shifts nervously, his palms suddenly sweaty. Did he do something wrong? Of course, Dean felt the awkwardness that had followed him through all of Ben’s routine. “Roughly none at all,” he admits. “Am I really bad?” he asks then, needing to know. Dean seems to want him around regardless but Castiel needs to know how much he has to work on.

Dean chuckles, “You’re really not. Ben clearly thinks you’re great, and I think Krissy wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

Castiel feels warm at those words and is glad that he does not have the tendency to blush.

Dean shifts to look at him directly, his nose almost touching Castiel’s cheek, “So yeah, I think it’s safe to say you’ve charmed all the Winchesters.” He says it with a low voice, breathy against Castiel, like it is private. Like they are not in a brightly lit living room, and Ben is not watching cartoons right in front of them. Like it is just them.

“All the Winchesters have charmed me as well,” Castiel says when he cannot think of anything else that would be more appropriate. But it is true and it makes Dean smile brightly at him and press his lips to Castiel’s jaw, right where it connects to his ear. 

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Dean asks, nose pressed to the point he just kissed. 

“I have to be at the museum at five, but I was just planning on reading until then,” Castiel tells him.

“You can read here,” Dean suggests, lips grazing his neck, “Lisa’s picking Ben up tomorrow morning. So I’m all alone.” 

Castiel does not understand how he can sound so suggestive without actually saying what it sounds like he is saying.

“Would you like me to come over?” Castiel asks to be sure. He never had that talent, the one that made flirting easy. 

He feels Dean smile against his skin, “I want you to stay.”

Castiel turns to him, catches his lips with his own for one brief, soft moment, painfully aware that they are not alone. “Then I’ll stay.”

They watch Ben’s TV show for a while and talk about Krissy and Castiel’s research, until Dean puts Ben to bed. He does not make any fuss about it other than demanding that Castiel reads him a bedtime story.

Castiel does so sitting on the edge of Ben’s bed. Dean sits on the floor, resting his chin on his hands on the top of Ben’s bed. It does not even feel weird. Just domestic and right and like they have done this a hundred times.

After the story Ben shows Castiel the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, and his cratered moon night lamp, and then they say goodnight. Dean kisses his small forehead and tells him he loves him, and Ben murmurs a reciprocation, eyes closed and breathing slowed.

Castiel heart clenches.

Krissy calls a short while later to tell Dean about her day and say goodnight. When she hears that Castiel is there Dean hands him the phone and Krissy tells him everything she has learned at camp so far.

Castiel is happy to discuss it with her and gives her advice and facts that he thinks will impress her friends there.

Then they spend a while on the couch with their limbs entwined while they watch TV and at the end of they night they make their way to Dean’s bedroom, and Dean lends Castiel clothes to sleep in and a spare toothbrush, and then they get into the bed, where Dean pulls Castiel to him, nuzzling his nose into Castiel hair behind his ear. Even though Castiel is used to sleeping alone, he finds that he does not mind the contact.

 

The next morning Lisa shows up early with a box of pancake mix and a tub of blueberries. She is surprised to see Castiel but smiles at him. Castiel curls his toes when he thinks about his behavior the last (and first) time he met her.

“Good to see you’re feeling better,” Lisa says to him while they stand in the kitchen. Dean is dressing Ben and packing his things upstairs.

Castiel smiles and hopes it is not as awkward as he feels, “Oh yes. Much better,” he says, mostly because he needs to say something.

Lisa starts rummaging in Dean’s kitchen for a mixing bowl, clearly comfortable in Dean’s space. She is silent for while as she pours in the flour mix and cracks a few eggs into the bowl. She is getting the milk from the fridge, her back to Castiel when she speaks again, “So you and Dean, huh?” she glances over her shoulder at him with a playful smile.

Castiel fidgets, clears his throat, “Uhm.”

Lisa chuckles and turns back to her batter, “It’s getting serious, then?” 

Her back is firmly to him then and he looks at her dark ponytail swaying as she mixes the batter, “Uhh, I-“

“Mommy!” Ben saves him as he runs into the kitchen and hugs his mother’s legs.

Dean walks in after him, and while Ben and Lisa are busy hugging and greeting, he presses a small kiss to Castiel’s lips, corners of his mouth curled up.

They eat the pancakes not long after, Ben chattering about the museum and Lisa talking about her and Dean’s old neighbors, because apparently, she still lives in their old house. Castiel just tries to avoid speaking. 

It takes a long time because Ben would rather talk than eat, and he has a momentary relapse of not liking blueberries before remembering that he does indeed like them. And then he needs to check that Dean packed the right toys, and then he has to say goodbye to the toys he is not bringing, and then he cannot find his other shoe. But eventually, after a few hours, Castiel is alone with Dean.

Dean turns to him after closing the door behind them and smiles. “I’m sorry about that. I’d like to say that it’s not usually so chaotic, but it’d be a lie.”

Castiel shakes his head, “Don’t apologize. I think Ben is wonderful.”

“He has his moments,” Dean says, and they go into the living room.

Dean turns to him after they have sat down on the couch, “So I knew dating would be different with kids, but I wasn’t expecting it to be like this,” he says, chuckling and looking down.

Castiel looks at the top of his head for a bit before reaching out for his hand, “I haven’t dated much at all, so I wouldn’t know.”

Dean grins at him when he looks up, “Hanging out with my kid and then going to sleep is probably not anyone’s idea of a perfect date, no matter how much they’ve dated.”

Castiel shrugs, “Dean, I invited myself over yesterday. And I suppose it wasn’t a very date-like evening, but I don’t care. I like hanging out with you and your kids, and I want to get to know you all.”

“Yeah?” Dean looks hopeful.

“Yes,” Castiel confirms with a reassuring smile. “Besides, we have time alone now.”

Dean smirks at that, “We do, don’t we? What time did you have any plans today?” 

“Not until five,” Castiel replies and feels giddy with the looks Dean is giving him.

Dean is all faux-innocence when he leans closer and bats his eyelashes coquettishly, “What are we to do with all this time, all by ourselves?”

Castiel grins and reaches out to pull Dean in to kiss him, and Dean is so on board with that, his hands going straight for Castiel face, to cup his jaw and runs his fingers through his hair.

It is mere minutes in that Castiel has Dean straddling him, and he runs his hands up Dean’s jean-clad thighs, appreciating the noises that gets him. Dean shifts above him and must feel Castiel’s hard-on poking into his groin. 

“Cas,” Dean moans into his jaw while he kisses his way to his neck, and Castiel only responds by sighing Dean’s name into his hair.

Dean’s hand lets go of his hair and trails down his chest, opening a few buttons to get his lips on his skin, before ending at his pants. Castiel is tight with anticipation while Dean works his pant-button and zipper, mouth busy at his neck, licking and biting marks into the skin there.

Castiel’s own hands have found their way under Dean’s shirt, and he scratches the warm, smooth skin of his back, probably a little too tight once Dean finally gets his hands on Castiel’s dick.

Dean’s only response is a smile, that Castiel catches out of the corner of his eye, because Dean is still busy at his neck and collarbone.

Castiel’s head tips back when Dean starts jacking him and he is pretty sure he lets out an unintelligible string of noises. Dean sits up on his knees to find Castiel’s mouth.

“That’s so hot, Cas,” he murmurs, breath hot against Castiel’s mouth.

Dean is moving against Castiel’s stomach, his dick hard and straining in his jeans. Castiel opens them, and Dean sits back down in his lap when Castiel puts his hands on his dick. 

Dean makes a satisfied noise against Castiel’s lips, and he keeps rutting against Castiel’s movements, which makes Castiel more eager. He ruts back against Dean, and he wishes they did not still have all their clothes on and that they had more space for movement, but the thought of stopping to get out of their clothes pains him.

He ignores the thought for a while, focusing on Dean’s skin under his lips, and their hands touching each other. Dean is panting now, low moans emitting from his throat against Castiel’s neck. Castiel thinks he deserves better than having his jeans cut into his hips and them straining to move properly in their limited space.

“Dean,” he murmurs, pulling Dean’s face from his neck by gently tucking on his hair.

And the sight of his face makes Castiel almost blow his load right then, because the other man’s lips are slick and red from kissing, his pupils are blown, and his hairline is glistening with sweat. He is panting, clearly not bothered by the lack of space or his barely-pulled down jeans. 

“Yeah, Cas,” he moans, more in response to Castiel’s touches, than to what he said.

Castiel does not get further with his suggestion to go upstairs; instead he cups Dean’s jaw, and pulls him in to kiss his lips, nibbles at the bottom one with his teeth. Dean’s hand on Castiel’s dick thumbs at the slit, squeezes the head, and his other hand is on his waist, nails digging into the skin there.

Castiel lets go of Dean’s jaw to tug at his hair, and he speeds up his movement on Dean’s dick. Castiel realizes that they never would have made it upstairs anyway when Dean’s hips still, and he whimpers against Castiel’s mouth as he comes over Castiel’s hand, dick and button-down. He tips his head back as he finishes and the sight of Dean coming plus the added slick of his cum on Castiel’s dick is enough for Castiel and he follows Dean over the edge, moaning against Dean’s chest while he spills over Dean’s hand and both of their pants.

They sit like that, resting against each other for a moment while their breathing evens. Then Dean leans back and they look at each other. He’s grinning, “So we’re doing that again!”

Castiel chuckles, “I agree. But perhaps we should opt for a bed next time?”

Dean laughs out loud and tugs his jeans up before getting off Castiel’s lap. He wipes cum off on his thigh before giving Castiel a hand to stand up.

“That might be more comfortable," he says like the thought had not even occurred to him. "Do you wanna borrow some clothes?” he asks.

Castiel looks down his attire. His button-down is nearly soaked down the front with cum and his black pants are not much better off. “Yes please.”

They make their way to Dean’s bedroom and Castiel unbuttons his wet shirt as they go. He eyes the bed, the clothes they had slept in are on it and it is unmade. What he and Dean just did was the hottest hand action he has ever experienced but looking at the bed and Dean pulling his soiled shirt off makes something stir a little in Castiel’s gut, warmth spreading to his groin despite himself. 

Dean puts some clothes for Castiel on top of his dresser and steps up to him, when he sees him looking at the bed. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, smirking as he tips Castiel’s chin up to kiss his lips. He is still shirtless and his skin is warm under Castiel’s hands.

Castiel smiles against his lips, “Nothing,” he says while he lets Dean walk him backwards a step and a half until he hits the bed. He sits down and scoots back, Dean following him and not letting go of his lips as they move up the bed.

It is not as desperate as earlier, probably because they just got off five minutes ago, but Dean’s tongue maps out Castiel’s mouth, and his hands map his torso under his undershirt and open button-down. Castiel runs the palms of his hands up Dean’s back, pulling him closer.

“I could spend all day doing this,” Dean tells him when his mouth leaves Castiel’s, and he rests his head on the pillow. His fingers trail trough Castiel’s hair, twirling locks around as he goes. Castiel is tracing the non-pattern of freckles on Dean’s chest. 

“We can,” Castiel says. He does not know what time it is, but he knows they did not spend a lot of time downstairs, on the couch.

So they do. They spend hours lying in bed, talking, tracing each other bodies, making out. They are still in their cum-stained clothes and Dean’s still not wearing a shirt but to Castiel it is perfect.

They get up eventually to eat, and Dean cooks them grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup which Castiel has not had since he was a kid. Then they take a shower. Together. And Castiel has not gotten off twice in a day since he was in undergrad.

He opts for spending more time with Dean rather than going home before he has to be at the museum. So he kisses Dean goodbye in the car when he drives him to the museum, and tries not to feel self-conscious when Meg eyes the slightly unfitting and completely out-of-character style clothes he is wearing. He zips up the hoodie to shield the graphic T-shirt underneath and leaves the staff room before she can comment.

He tries not to think about Dean as he works. He is not doing any actual museum-work that day and finds it hard to concentrate in his office while he reads. But he turns off his phone and locks his door and manages to finish what he had planned to finish by the time he leaves the museum at 11pm.

He opens his phone when he is on the metro home. There is a text from Meg telling him he works too hard and that she will buy him dinner if he is in the cafeteria at 7pm and if he promises to tell her why he is wearing another man’s clothes. Castiel is glad he missed the deadline on that invitation. 

Dean has texted him twice. 

_Hey Cas u forgot ur clothes but ill wash them and u can get em later. x._

And

 _idk if it’s too soon but krissy’s bday is next weekend. Everyone is coming, friends and fam etc. She’d be happy if u came and I would too. Let me know._ followed by a heart emoji that makes Castiel all happy inside. He is quick to promise that he will be there, before he gets a chance to overthink and chicken out.


	5. Chapter 5

When Saturday 11.30am rolls around, Castiel is once again on Dean’s front step. They have not seen each other all week, but they have spoken on the phone every day.

He should not be nervous. Dean had told him there was no reason to be nervous. His family was nice, and Lisa’s family was nice and besides Lisa’s boyfriend was also getting introduced to everyone the first time today, and he was a dick so Castiel was safe. No. Reason. To. be. Nervous.

Somehow, he found his hands shaking as he pressed the doorbell anyway.

When the door opens, there is a wide chest where he had expected to see Dean’s face. He looks up into the face of a very tall young man. 

“Uhm, hello,” Castiel says, “I’m here for Krissy’s birthday,” he says stupidly.

The man smiles and opens the door wider, “Come in,” and Castiel walks past him, “Are you Matt or Castiel?” the man asks completely mispronouncing his name.

“Castiel,” Castiel says, wondering who Matt is. He takes off his coat and hangs it in the closet.

“Really?” the man asks, suddenly more excited. Castiel feels awkward. “It’s so good to meet you, I’m Sam,” the man, Sam, says, reaching his hand out for Castiel to shake.

“Dean’s brother,” he remembers, and Sam just smiles even more brightly.

“Come on in and meet everybody,” Sam says then, and Castiel’s hands instantly clammy up.

 

Castiel is introduced to so many people that he cannot remember any of their names. There is Sam’s girlfriend, a very pregnant blonde in a turtleneck sweater. And Dean’s mother whom Dean is almost a carbon copy of, only male. An older man in a trucker cap and a wheel chair who swears like a sailor, and Benny and Andrea from the Christmas market, and Lisa’s parents who gives him weird looks but at least look like they are trying, Lisa’s new boyfriend (Matt) who shows up minutes after Castiel and who is the only person drinking a beer at a birthday party for a girl turning nine, and a bunch of other people who all smile and say they are _so happy to meet him_. 

Castiel is almost a little dazed after meeting everyone. He gives Krissy and Ben a hug, and Krissy is very happy with her Egypt Lego set complete with a Cleopatra figure and several tiny cats. They start playing with the toys immediately with some of the other kids who are too shy to greet Castiel and who Castiel have no idea belong to.

After introducing him to everyone, Sam gets preoccupied with separating two girls fighting over one of Krissy’s toys, and Castiel can finally escape to the kitchen without seeming rude. 

That is where he finally finds Dean, and he almost sighs in relief. Him and Lisa are putting together food and warming up hot chocolate for everyone. Lisa spots him first.

“Cas, hey! You came!” she says and finishes cutting off crusts of mini-sandwiches.

Dean turns to him and beams, “Hey. I didn’t know you were here.”

Lisa leaves with the plate of food and there is some cheering from the living room as she enters. 

Castiel walks up to Dean who is stirring the chocolate on the stove. He kisses him briefly, and Dean forgets about stirring the chocolate, more interested in kissing Castiel harder. “Dean!” Castiel says after a moment, gesturing to the boiling chocolate, and Dean curses and removes it from the stove.

“Sam let me in,” Castiel tells him, an answer to his previous comment.

“Oh good, you met Sam,” Dean says and Castiel cannot tell if he is being sarcastic. “I’m sure he didn’t say anything embarrassing.”

Castiel squints at him but does not have a reply to that, “I met everyone.”

“Goody,” Dean says and transfers the hot liquid to a large thermos to pour from, “Will you take this to the living room?”

The living room is filled with people. Some sitting on the couch and the armchair, some on the chairs from the dining table and some are even sitting on the floor. Castiel stands awkwardly near the wall after having put the pitcher on the table. Everyone is talking about personal things and Castiel feels incredibly out of place. 

That is until Dean walks in with more food, and he pulls Castiel with him to sit on the arm on the couch next to Sam’s pregnant girlfriend who he really wishes he remembered the name of.

Dean talks with her about something baby-related and Castiel observes his cucumber sandwich with great interest hoping he does not seem too awkward and weird.

“So, Cas!” Sam says then. He is sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, “Dean said you’re doing a Ph.D.?”

“Uhm yes, I am,” Castiel says and wants to hit himself. Why does he not know how to have a conversation? It is not like Sam is not being friendly.

Sam nods, waiting for Castiel to go on. When Castiel remains mum, he prods, “In archaeology?”

“Yes. I’m writing my doctorate in archaeology of ritual and religion. It’s based on field work. In Peru,” Castiel manages to say and wonders if he has talked too much.

“Wow!” Sam says and Castiel thinks that is real interest on his face, “That’s amazing. Where’d Dean even find you?” he grins when Dean flips him off without looking away from his conversation with Sam’s girlfriend.

“We met at the museum that I’m affiliated with,” Castiel says.

Sam raises an eyebrow sceptically, “Dean was at a museum?”

“It was more that Krissy and Ben were at the museum, and Dean had to go with them,” Castiel tells him, and Sam laughs. 

Castiel cannot help but chuckle too, and Dean glares at him but not without smiling.

“Are we getting to know Cas? Count me in,” Dean’s mother says, making her way over and sitting down next to Sam’s girlfriend.

“So how do a Ph.D.-student and a mechanic get along?” Sam asks and grins at Dean.

Dean sulks, “Oh because a lawyer and a vet have a lot in common?” he says which Castiel guesses means something about Sam and his girlfriend.

“Dean has a lot of technical understanding. I can barely even follow the instructions from my school’s IT-service, so I’ve had laptop problems for the last few months, but Dean fixed it in ten minutes,” Castiel says. 

“Yeah, I’m more than just a pretty face, bitch,” Dean says, sending Sam a smug look.

“Dean!” Lisa says sternly from her place in the other end of the living room where she is talking to the man with the trucker cap and Andrea.

Dean holds up his hands in apology, “Sorry.”

Dean’s mom and Sam’s girlfriend laugh, and Sam stage-whispers _Jerk_ to Dean.

“So, Cas, do you have any children?” Dean’s mom asks. 

“Uh,” Castiel mutters, “No…” 

“Oh,” Is all she says but she the smile stays on her face.

“Castiel works with a lot of kids at the museum. That’s how I got to see him so much. He’s great with them,” Dean tells his mother, and Castiel frowns, confused at Dean’s image of Castiel and children versus Castiel’s own image of himself and children. Since when is he good with kids?

Castiel coughs and hopes the heat he feels in his cheeks does not show on his complexion. 

“You like kids then?” Sam’s girlfriend asks, maybe to offer him some way to salvage himself, but Castiel does not manage to take the life line.

“I- uh… Honestly haven’t given much thought to it before,” he mutters, and thinks his neck must be flushed by now. He is feeling very hot under his clothes.

Dean gives him a look, “What? You’re great with my kids?” he says sounding confused. 

“Yes, well,” Castiel clears his throat, “Yours are different.”

And it is the right thing to say because Dean beams at him and the others laugh. 

Dean proceeds to tell the other three about Castiel’s and Krissy’s shared passion, and how much he indulges her and how patient he is with Ben, and Castiel tries his best not to blush. 

The conversation kind of breaks up after a while, and Castiel discusses the child-friendliness of the museum with Sam’s girlfriend, who he learns is Jess, for a bit, before talking with Bobby, who is Dean’s not-dad, Benny and Lisa’s mother about nothing in particular. 

The day progresses painlessly, and they get cake after a while with candles that Krissy blow out. Afterwards she insists on showing him her presents and he tries to be excited about the toys. Ben is ordered to take a nap when he starts getting cranky, and the other guests with children take off shortly after that. Castiel says goodbye to Lydia and Emma, and couple others he does not remember the names of. 

The families stay a while longer, but Sam and Jess leave early in the evening because Jess is more pregnant than what is comfortable. 

Everyone else stay for dinner, and then they leave. Dean’s mother gives Castiel a hug and a smile that seems to say a lot but Castiel does not speak that language. Bobby grunts something about looking after ‘that kid’ and Castiel thinks he means Dean and promises to do so. 

And then it is just before 8pm, and it is just them, Krissy, Ben and Lisa. Lisa helps clean up after the party, and Castiel finds that besides being beautiful, she is also great and kind and funny, and he was totally justified in being jealous in that sense. 

Then Krissy finds all her photos and material from archaeology camp and is very eager to show Castiel, and Castiel finds that he is just as eager to hear about it, so Dean sets up the USB device to the TV and Krissy makes a very nice and very informed presentation about everything she has learned. Ben plays with farm animal figures and does not care about ‘old stuff found in the dirt’.

While an informational video on how to properly handle the archaeology tools is showing on the TV, Castiel tunes out and hears Dean and Lisa talking in the kitchen.

“You want me to take the kids?” Lisa asks.

“Uhm, up to you. All of Krissy’s presents are here though, so that’ll be a bitch to pack,” Dean replies.

There is some silence, then Dean says, “Why are you smiling like that?”

Lisa giggles, “Just thought you’d want to be alone with Cas, is all.”

“Oh!” Dean exclaims and Castiel can almost hear the fact that Dean is blushing on his voice, “Right, uh, yeah,” he says then, quieter.

“You’re welcome,” Lisa sing-songs.

Dean clears his throat, “Yeah, erm, thanks.”

Castiel just smiles to himself. Yes, he really likes Lisa.

It is not long after that they all leave, even though Ben cries when he says goodbye to them, and Krissy rolls her eyes when she has to pack up her presents. Lisa shoots Dean a loaded look after hugging him goodbye but Dean ignores it. Lisa hugs Castiel as well and then they are gone.

 

“So that was the family,” Dean says after closing the door behind them.

“They were nice. Thanks for inviting me,” Castiel says and does not move as Dean moves in closer, his hands coming to rest on his waist.

“They were just acting. They can be real assholes,” Dean says, and his breath comes out hot and delicious when he chuckles.

Castiel smiles and cannot keep his eyes from roaming Dean’s face. 

“You staying?” Dean asks, stepping even closer into Castiel’s personal space.

Castiel nods, “Mhmm,” he says, lips mere inches from Dean’s.

Dean bites his lower lip, runs his tongue over it before closing the distance between them. 

They end up in the bed this time, and it is everything. They sleep naked after, lying next to each other with their legs entwined. 

 

When Castiel wakes up alone he is disoriented at first, but he finds a pair of Dean’s boxers and pyjamas and makes his way to the kitchen, where Dean is making coffee, naked.

Dean hears him and smiles at him over his freckled shoulder, “Good morning, Cas.”

“Yeah,” Castiel says quietly, mostly to himself, “It is.”

“Listen, you can totally say no, but Lisa asked if we wanna go sledding with the kids today. Matt promised to take them but backed out and Lisa’s sure she’ll break a leg if she tries,” Dean asks.

“You expect me to say no to anything you ask when you’re wearing nothing and making me coffee?” Castiel asks, feeling the happiest he has probably ever felt before 10am on a weekend.

Dean smirks and hands him his coffee. He skirts his hand up under the borrowed pyjamas and squeezes Castiel’s hip while he kisses him.

“I am serious, though, you can say no,” Dean says.

Castiel frowns, “Will I have to do any actual sledding?”

“No” Dean chuckles, “I promise we can stay at the bottom of the hill.”

“Okay,” Castiel nods, “Then I think we should take them sledding."

 

They make their way to the sledding hill about an hour later. They buy hot coffee while Krissy and Ben run to the top of the hill, and Dean sneaks his hand down Castiel’s back pocket, and when Castiel gives him a look, he shrugs innocently, “For warmth.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, and as Krissy and Ben yell at them to look, and Dean gropes his ass under his coat, Castiel thinks to himself, that maybe he is a family man when it comes to the Winchester family.


End file.
